#you see a thing so weird you just go '' oh god what is that'' and not gender. although i do like the flavour of it/its that is so niceys...

[gr7mes]

FALLING BEHIND “everybody’s falling in love but im falling behind.” carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: fluff, kissing, use of y/n, e2l

@p1stach1oss + @gr7mes !! we both did laufey inspired carl fics so check out hers <3

a/n: this is my longest fic ever omg 😭 teehee i love adding him with cold hands🙏 this fic is inspired by falling behind by laufey, the lyrics r in between paragraphs or they’re in italic and bold !! i don’t know how to feel ab this one 😭

you felt like cupid was against you. “he called me pretty y/n. he called me pretty.” enid says, clutching your hand in excitement. you notice how the sunlight hits her face perfectly, no wonder she’s got ron all over her.

and my best friend’s found a new guy

you tried hard. really hard. it was practically impossible for you to get a boyfriend. sure, you had better things to worry about, but it was hard to stop thinking about it when you saw couples everywhere you went.

you were honestly desperate at this point. it was pathetic, really pathetic. but you just couldn’t manage anymore. you wanted to have someone who would let you cry into their chest when you were low, someone who would bend down to tie your shoelaces when they were undone, someone who would love you.

like a normal teenage girl, it was no surprise that you had a crush. of course, to your luck, you didn’t have even a slim chance with him. you were naive, wanting a boyfriend but crushing on the boy who hated your guts. you had fallen in love with carl grimes.

you and the boy weren’t exactly best buddies. when you were younger, he would tease you every chance he got. it’s not so different now. carl had made it his number one priority to make your life a living hell, and oh boy, was he successful.

he was tormenting you, but not in the way he’s trying to. he was all you could think about, and it was irritating. he could be making fun of you, and all you would focus on was his pretty face.

god, his eyes were like the midwinter sky, you could stare at them all day without getting bored. you often found yourself also gazing at his lips. they would be moving but you wouldn’t hear anything. it was hard to focus on things when you were around him.

“y/n? hello.. did you not hear what i just said?” enid says, eyebrows furrowing into confusion. “no, i did- sorry. go on.” you felt bad, you knew she was happy about this. so why couldn’t you just listen and be happy for her?

“whats distracting you so much? you’re really out of it today.” she says. “nothing, it’s not important.” “you sure? seemed pre-“ you watch as she glances behind you, talking instantly coming to a stop. you notice how her face flushes before she grins. you turn around to see ron, mr. prince charming, smiling at her.

“go, we can talk tomorrow.” you say, nodding your head in ron’s direction, a slight smile appearing on your face. “thank you, thank you, thank you! i promise we’ll talk later. you can tell me all about what you were daydreaming about.” enid exclaims, quickly rising to her feet, finishing her sentence as she walks over to the lanky boy.

lovers stroll without a care in sight

you were making your way back to your house, looking down at the ground beneath you. it’s not that you were completely devastated you didn’t have a lover of your own, but you were upset. “wait up loser!” you hear a voice call out from behind you.

your footsteps come to a halt and almost instantly, carl grimes is standing next to you. you felt your heart stop. play it cool y/n. “hi..?” you wanted to smack yourself right there and then. hi?? hi?!! you were so basic. “what’s got you all quiet? you’re usually so loud, you’re kinda scaring me.” he jokes, noticing how your usual smile was turned into a slight frown.

you found it kinda weird how he noticed the little things about you. you’d known each other for years now, and if you were being honest, he probably knew you better than enid did. boy, did it give you butterflies. if only he liked you back. “m’ okay. jus thinking about something. it’s really dumb though.” “everything you say is dumb. what’s up?” there it is. the daily insult.

“like i said, it’s nothing. don’t you have something better to do?” you say, looking him in the eye. “yeah, but i think this is pretty entertaining. now, can you please tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

ooh, this can’t be right

you knew he was probably being sarcastic, but his words still made your heart beat faster. anything carl said made your heart beat faster.

“you really wanna know?” “have i not made it obvious enough?” he says, rolling his eyes playfully. you sigh. “don’t laugh, but it’s like- everybody’s falling in love and i’m falling behind.” “what do you mean?” he was.. interested in what you had to say?

“everyone is getting their perfect fairytale and i’m just there. enid keeps talking about ron, how he calls her pretty and everything. they’re perfect. meanwhile, no one has even had a crush on me. it’s hopeless. i’m only getting older, i’ve never had a shoulder to cry on.”

carl looked at you with sympathy. “you’re really clueless aren’t you?” he asks, chuckling. “huh?” “y/n, who do you think left the comic you really wanted on your doorstep? who do you think got you the heart locket necklace thingy for your birthday? you’ve never thought about why they were just laying there?”

“i dont- i thought it was just enid surprising me or something.” “i dont think enid sneaked out the week before your birthday to make sure you got a good gift.” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “are you saying- that’s impossible.”

“i am in love with you. that’s what i’m saying.” your eyes widened, mouth parting slightly. “but- how? you’ve hated me since we were like- i don’t even know.” “who said i hated you?” okay. what was going on? carl grimes, the boy who’s been tormenting you since you could walk is confessing his feelings to you?

he sighs. “i-i know i’ve been an asshole. and i’m sorry. i’ve just been scared.” “scared..?” you ask, a puzzled look on your face. “terrified. y/n, you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever laid eyes on. i don’t- i didn’t know how to express my feelings. so i’ve just been being a pain in the ass. i know you don’t like me, and tha-“

you closed the space between you two, instantly laying your lips onto his. you didn’t know what was happening, but you knew you weren’t going to waste this opportunity.

one of his hands found its way to your back, pulling you closer. you felt the other one rest upon your cheek. the only thing that was surfacing in your mind was how good the sensation of his lips on yours felt. it was purely euphoric.

as soon as you both parted lips, you already missed it. “what does this mean? w-what are we?” you ask, voice quieter than usual. his cold hands reached for yours, a nervous expression on his face.

“i really wanna be yours. only if you’ll let me.” his words rang throughout your head, the words not processing.

“i really want you to be mine, carl grimes.”

“then i’m all yours, sweet girl.”

everybody’s falling in love

[gabessquishytum]

I keep seeing all these ideas where Dream is famous and I wanna take it a step farther. With Dream being rockstar famous, and known for his wild temper and deeply chaotic life, he gets approached by a large Hollywood studio to star in a new reality television show. It would be him, his new manager and husband Hob, their teenage sons and a revolving door of friends, neighbors and family. They'll move him out of his posh Soho flat and into a luxury mansion in Beverly Hills. All he needs to do is sign on the dotted line.

Dream obviously thinks it's stupid. After all, he's a pretty private guy and a right asshole at times and he doesn't think he'll make good television. But Hob disagrees. It's been forever since Dream's name was last in the papers and fans are clambering for new content. Besides, they can play up their personalities for the camera and Hob wouldn't just let them run amok in their private life.

So he agrees a bit unwillingly. That is until he finds out how fun it is to lie directly to the camera, make Desire's life hell when they guest star, and ruin production by showing them how satisfied his husband is in every room of the house.

- 🤜 anon

I love the idea of an Endless reality TV show SO MUCH!!! Can you imagine the chaos?! It'd be so brilliant.

Robyn and Orpheus are in their late teens, so old enough to enjoy occasionally popping up in an episode or two - but when filming starts they get to find out exactly how protective their dad (Hob) is over their privacy. Hob has written strict boundaries into the contract with the production company so the cameras literally can't go into certain parts of the mansion, and certainly can't film the boys without at least one guardian being present. Hob would happily take the company to court and sue if they cross any lines. The same rules apply for Delirium, who is also still quite young and occasionally likes to show up in an episode.

Meanwhile Dream is basically just having a great time doing increasingly weird things. He takes baths in oat milk, claiming that its been part of his routine for years. He puts a really terrible fake tattoo on his upper thigh and walks around showing it off like it's real. He does "vocal exercises" with Orpheus as part of his "art" and Orpheus spends the whole time trying not crack up while Dream makes these awful noises.

And of course, who would forget -

Hob, holding a tiny pig: Dream Endless, come to the foyer... I have a little gift for you

Dream: oh my god is that a chicken?!

Plus the amount of times the camera has caught Hob looking thoroughly wrecked... in the kitchen covered in hickies, with his pants down in the pool area, black lipstick smeared all over his face in the bathroom... so many bits of footage have had to be cut because Dream will just drop to his knees wherever and start trying to suck Hob’s dick. He's famous, he can do what he wants!

The show is, of course, a hit. Much to Desire's chagrin. Although they are secretly hoping to get a spinoff show out of this - hopefully one where they get to slap the smug smile off Dream’s annoying face...

[enwonz]

safe and sound | n.rk

in which a stranger tells you the things you want to hear most.

pairing — academic overachiever reader x stranger ni-ki, hurt/comfort

w/c — 1.4k

tw — reader’s kinda depressed and has terrible self-esteem, mention of throwing self out a window

the ink burns red, red, red.

you’re fighting it, fighting yourself. eyes stinging as everyone around you mills about asking for scores. tests like these are everything, to overachieving students like the ones in your class.

except you, that is.

your friends come over, but their hands on your shoulders are icy even though it’s the middle of april. “how’d you do? it wasn’t as bad as i thought, but you never know with those teachers.”

“you first.” stalling for time, you force your lips into what has to be the most strained smile ever. miracle they don’t see through it. you pray they never will.

your friends rattle off a few scores. not stellar, but good enough. not a disaster, like you-

no, no. you can’t do this here. not now.

subtly you turn your paper over so they can’t see the score, grinning again. “that’s pretty good.” do they get the hint? maybe not, but eventually they move on to find someone else to bother. you thank god for that little mercy they’re giving you, at the very least.

unfair. unfair, unfair, unfair-

the bell rings, and the others start picking up their bags to leave. and if your friends try to drag you to the mall, you shrug and whip out some random worksheet that isn’t even due in the next week. or maybe you don’t. it’s hard to remember when you’re using up any energy you have left trying not to throw yourself out the window.

pretty soon it’s just a few girls left, but it’s not for another twenty minutes that they all leave. and you just sit there, letting the crimson burn into your fingers, your colourless cheeks, your chapped lips. red is shame. red is failure. and you let it stew in your stomach and pray it gets digested before any custodian comes to check on you at the end of the school day when he comes to lock up. god forbid anyone see you like this, the resentment roiling and turning in your gut.

the silence is deafening. blood roars in your ears, even as the school bell chimes and you hear the last of the footballers outside cheer. how the hell is anyone happy at all, and you’re just sitting there withering away in your own self-made prison? you can’t even cry, god knows you don’t even deserve it, because this really is your fault. your fault for being too hesitant, too panicked, while everyone else goes on with you still hanging in the balance grasping for just one chance.

maybe now you’ll never prove yourself. maybe this is it, the final nail in the coffin that destroys everything you’ve ever worked for. three failing grades in the same day. screwed up all your interviews this week. it’s as though you’re cursed to defile everything you touch — damned if you hope, damned if you don’t.

the classroom door must have clicked open, because before you can scramble to your feet to leave, there’s a boy standing in front of your desk. he’s got this weird look in his eyes, all calculating and scrutinising. it’s as though his line of sight is a laser that pierces open everything you try to stuff under your skin. twirling between his fingers is a little key, presumably for the classroom doors. “didn’t expect anyone to be here at this hour.”

you’ve seen him around before. he’s in the class next to you - what was he, their class rep? either way, you can’t quite place his name, but his presence alone is enough to get you on your feet. “s-sorry, i’ll get going now.”

but as you haphazardly shove your things into your backpack, the test paper flutters to the ground in slow motion, landing right as his feet. oh no no no don’t pick it up don’t-

but of course it finds its way into his hands, and you can tell he’s trying not to peek but he sees anyway. that awful, awful 12/25 on your paper. and you avert your gaze as you take it from his grasp, because how could you possibly expect anything but pity from a complete stranger?

and gosh, do you detest pity.

“wait.” before you can run off, his hand wraps around your shoulder, the unexpected warmth stopping you in your tracks. he’s studying you again, trying to read what you imagine must be an impossibly despondent look on your face. it would be rude to shrug him off, and you almost do, until he gestures out the window. “it’s…raining,” he gulps out. and what do you know, it is. just your luck.

you shiver, tightening your grip on the straps of your backpack. “i’ll be fine.”

“at least take my umbrella. i’ll walk you to the gate.”

“…okay.”

so you walk in silence down three floors, each step sending tingles shooting up your previously-numb legs. maybe the boy can tell, because he swaps sides with you so you can grab onto the railing. maybe you wanted the company a little more than you’d like to admit.

as you finally reach where the shelter ends, you look away. “keep your umbrella, i’ll be alright.”

but there’s a strange grimace on his face as he pushes the umbrella into your unclenched hands. “no, you’re not. at least, you won’t be. not unless you keep yourself safe and dry. wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

you can’t help it. the words slip out before you even realise they’re on your tongue. “why do you even care?” oh shit, that came out ruder than you’d intended, and you want to slap your hand over your mouth and apologise a hundred times over, but it’s too late for that now.

the boy pauses, his silence unreadable as he eyes you once again. it’s starting to be a little more than unnerving, the way he sees through barriers you didn’t even know you had up. "because i don’t think you deserve to sit in an empty classroom alone trying not to cry…? you looked awful.”

“...thanks.”

he slaps his palm over his head. “no, not like that. i meant that you looked like your world had come crashing down. it…it hasn’t, okay? you’ll be alright. one step after another, and you’ll get wherever you wanna go. you’re trying as hard as you can and you should be proud of yourself for that.”

how can a complete stranger know exactly what you’ve always wanted to hear? your chest aches with the affirmation of a nameless boy, who’s smiling at you with a softness that makes you want to throw your arms around him and sob, decorum be damned. he’s so good. too good.

at last, you take hold of the umbrella, an inexplicable warmth blossoming in your chest and throat. you can feel the flood of tears you’ve been holding back the whole afternoon threatening to surface, but this time it’s triggered by the gentleness with which he opens the umbrella with a soft click, grinning at you as he gives your shoulder a light squeeze. “go on. don’t worry about returning the umbrella, okay?”

“i’ll see you around, y/n.”

and with that, he sprints off into the pouring rain, the file he’s holding over his head almost comical. the giggle that escapes you startles you out of your stupor, and it’s only then that you realise you’ve been staring, watching him go.

but he’ll be back. maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, but you’ll see him again. and you’ll wait.

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t even think to question why nameless boy knows your name.

with a crash, nishimura riki bursts through the front door, hair dripping water all the way along the corridor.

“riki! you’re making the whole place wet! where’s your umbrella?”

he sighs, shaking off his waterlogged shoes. despite his sister’s constant nagging and the rainwater soaking through his clothes, there’s a giddy smile on his face. “lent it to a friend.”

“...it was a girl, wasn’t it?”

at this point, he doesn’t even care anymore, flopping to the ground as his wet clothes slap against the wooden floors. “you don’t understand, nee-san. she’s the girl. i finally, finally got to talk to her. I’m-”

“GET OFF THE FLOOR ALREADY BISCO’S LICKING UP THE RAINWATER!”

a/n — hi pookies it’s been a while…i’m not built to be an academic weapon lololol. my final exam of the term’s next thursday, so i’ll probably be able to churn out more stuff after that. immediately after i type this im gg to pomodoro my way thru life again send help-

ALSO NO THIS IS NOT A CRY FOR HELP okay goodbye lovelies (@stariikis consider this a thank you for the jw fic)

[hannahssimblr]

“What?”

“I said, you tore me out of this photo. I was there too,” I unpin it and hold it out to point to the crooked edge next to Jen where my eleven year old self once stood, tanned and grinning in red swimming shorts, “There, I was there.”

She looks at it, then me, but says nothing. 

“You can still see my shoulder.”

“Yeah.”

“You tore me out of it.”

Again, nothing. 

I let my arm drop, limply holding the photo between two fingers, speechless I just stare at her as though she might explain herself, give me some reason that makes sense, but she doesn’t, she just stands there chewing on her lip. 

I tug my shoulders sharply toward my ears, “Why did you do that? That was a nice day. We went swimming in the sea, I rescued you from a jellyfish, remember? I grabbed a piece of driftwood and flung it out of the water for you.”

“Yeah,”

“And later your mam brought us back to my house and we had a water fight on the lawn and made ice cream and coke floats,” I hold the photo out to her in a last ditch appeal, “It was a great day.”

“Yeah it was nice, we had fun.” She won’t meet my eyes and looks everywhere but at me, like acknowledgement is unbearable.

“What, Michelle? I don’t get it. What did I do that was so horrible?”

She scoffs and turns away. 

“C’mon, just tell me. I’ve had enough of all this bullshit between us, I’m serious. What is it?”

“Oh come on.”

“No, what?” I toss the photo onto her desk and approach her, my hand on her arm makes her flinch as I spin her to look at me, eyes livid, as I insist upon her, “What?” 

“My God, you’re awful,” she hisses, “Why do you need to hear me saying it? Is it an ego thing? Is it because you’re all single and sad again?”

“What are you on about?”

“You already know what this is all about, it just gives you a thrill to bring it up.”

“No! I don’t know!”

“Oh cop on,” She slaps my hand off her, “That stuff with Holly, you just don’t remember? That’s convenient.”

“Holly?”

“Oh my God,” she tries to twist away from me but I stop her, “What did Holly say to you?”

Michelle glares right into my face with a fury that would make a lesser man cower, but I don’t budge. “Tell me!” 

“That you don’t fancy me,” she grinds out, “and that I’m not even pretty.”

I hesitate. 

She tosses her hand at me and hacks out a laugh, “See, you don’t even deny it.”

“Yeah, I was thirteen and stupid, she was jealous and I suppose I was just telling her what she wanted to hear. Shell!” she backs off and I follow, trying to insert myself into her eye line, “I didn’t mean it, she just didn’t get it, the way it wasn’t like that between us, but I don’t know why she told you that.”

“It’s because she knew I fancied you, and she thought it was funny how you didn’t fancy me back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You didn’t, you fancied Holly.” 

I sigh, “Holly was… everyone expected that of me.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“She liked me, and she was the sort of girl that all the other boys talked about all the time, I felt like I should just go out with her because it’d be the most normal thing to do.”

“Oh my God, that’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I know, but I was still a kid and, I don’t know, you, Jen and I had a good thing going, I just didn’t want to risk ruining it.”

“Well obviously you did, by saying I was ugly and throwing your birthday gifts back in my face.”

“I never said you were ugly, and the birthday gifts… she told me I couldn’t have them because they were from you, but I still liked them! Those pens were better than her gift, you know, I didn’t even like the movie she took me to see,” my attempt at a laugh sounds very weird and tight, “It was actually so shit.”

Michelle is unmoved, with her arms crossed over her chest she says, “You read what I said in the card and you still threw it away like it was nothing.”

“No, I didn’t- I skimmed- I barely read it.”

She reels back like I’ve spit in her face, “Is that supposed to be better?”

I don’t answer. 

“‘Dear Jude,’” She recites, “‘Happy thirteenth birthday! I hope you have an amazing day! I just want to say that being your friend is the best! You’re so nice and funny and talented, I’m glad all of the time that you started going to our school because you make our friend group so much better. I hope you like the gel pens, I know you hate drawing with yellow colours because they don’t show up on the page, but I couldn’t exactly take it out of the packet or it would look pretty strange! Maybe you can use them to draw more comics. I look at the one you drew for me with the cowboy cats every day and it still makes me laugh. Is that weird? I hope not. Anyway, I hope you have an amazing birthday because you’re an amazing friend! xxx Michelle.’” She glares at me. The way she positively spat that message at me threw me off a bit, but the essence of it still comes across and makes my stomach sink with shame all of the same. It really was a nice card, and I wish for the millionth time in my seventeen-and-a-half years that I wasn’t such a fucking idiot. 

“I remember the cowboy cat comic,” I mutter, “Do you still have it?”

It seems as though my stupidity is confounding her, “No, I fucked it into the bin. Obviously. I was heartbroken.”

“Heartbroken?” A bit dramatic, surely. 

“Yeah. Holly and her friends bullied me for years, and you just went and abandoned me for them.”

“That’s not fair, I didn’t. You pushed me away, remember? You accused me of choosing them, I never chose them. You chose not to be my friend.” 

“Yeah, I wonder why.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“So stubborn. You can't let this go.”

“Uh! Yeah! Because it’s humiliating.”

“What is? That you fancied me?”

She brings her hands to her cheeks, burning not with rage, but embarrassment. She takes a shaky breath, “did you know?”

“About you-”

“Yes.”

I chew on my lip. Of course I did. It was written all over her, the way she was so eager to sit next to me in class or in the car, squeezing into the middle seat just so that her leg could rest against mine. How she jumped at the chance to help me out with something before anybody else could, her laugh, a little bit harder and longer than everyone else's when I told a joke, but not addressing it was always easier. Maybe I liked the attention a little bit, enjoyed being admired by a cute girl, or maybe it was easier, less disruptive than admitting my own uncomfortable, friendship-group-ruining feelings. 

“No, I had no idea,” I say. 

Her eyes are fixed upon the carpet between our feet as though by looking so intently at the looped fibres she can transport herself anywhere other than here with me and my interrogations. 

“Hey, look at me.”

“No.”

I sigh, “Look, Michelle, I did think you were pretty. That’s why Holly was so jealous. Our friendship made her insecure, and she hated how much I liked hanging out with you. She could sense that I liked you.”

“Oh, come on, that’s the kind of thing you say to those stupid girls at school so that they’ll let you borrow their homework or something.”

“I really did!”

“You used to throw potato wedges at me outside the deli!”

“Yeah! That’s how you show a girl you fancy her when you’re twelve!”

Her laugh is humourless, “Please.”

“I’m telling you I did,” I take her wrist, with her pulse jumping under my fingers and hold her like that, for reasons I’m not sure of, perhaps just for connection. Close like this I can feel the heat of her body. I am desperate to show her how serious I am. “And if I wasn’t so stupid I might have done something about it.”

“Too late.”

“It’s not.”

I bend and kiss her before she can argue any more. Once, just once, but insistently, and I pull back hard with a smack expecting outrage on her face but I find only surprise, desire, and eyes that flick from my eyes to my mouth and back. I kiss her again, slow this time, deep, sure, as my hands hold her hips close to mine, willing for this kiss to wipe it all away, all of the years of hurt and anguish between us, and she lets me kiss her, and she kisses me back with hands that thread through my hair and lips that part so I can slide my tongue inside her mouth.

My knees knock against hers in our clumsy waltz towards her bed and we come down on it together, my body pressing against hers and my fingers finding the warm skin beneath her t-shirt. I draw back to look at her again, dark eyes and full lips and skin, as is mine, blushed amber with the first rays of dawn that stream through the window. 

“Do you want to stop?” I say, and she shakes her head. 

“No.”

And outside, as the sun creeps up over Clontarf, the branches of the cherry blossom trees hold their leafy arms up in surrender. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Hey, sorry to trouble you. Unsure of your time zone so i hope this is sent at a good time! (Sorry if it isn't!)

Could you maybe do something with Vox and a Reader who saves him from a surprise attack via a Sinner or Angel?

Kinda the Reader just like 'Oh sorry i got blood on you. Glad you're okay.' With Vox unsure if he wants this person under contact or to kiss them. Or do whatever go nuts!

(I have no idea what timezone I’m in tbh, I’m too lazy to check. As I’m posting this it is 10:50 AM where I live, if that helps anyone. No worries, though! I love answering all your asks and writing out posts based on your requests!)

“Walking downtown, avoiding the paparazzi…” Vox muttered to himself. He’d really done it this time. He was trying to avoid being out of the Vee tower for too long, but he’d taken a detour with almost no Voxtek cameras. Now he couldn’t teleport. It made him uneasy. “God fucking damnit…”

“Stop right there, bitch,” a sinner demon said, pointing a gun at him. Vox froze, but not out of fear. He was surprised first, that a sinner demon would try to hurt an Overlord. This one must be new, or arrogant. But as he looked at the gun, he couldn’t help the tidal wave of emotions that over came him, all memories of compromising situations- similar situations- he’d been in when he was alive. “That’s right, now… put your hands where I can see them.”

Vox absentmindedly complied, still partially reliving every single time he’d had a gun pointed at him before. Every wound he’d received, every bullet he’d had to fish out of his own flesh.

“Good, now-”

The sinner demon was cut off brutally. With an axe. To its neck. Its head came off with ease and you stood behind it, looking surprised. Vox’s eyes widened. Now he was vaguely afraid.

“Oh. I didn’t expect it to be so… fragile,” you said, nudging the corpse of the demon lightly. “Huh. Well, in any case…” you looked up to Vox, an apologetic look on your face. “Sorry about that. Did I get any blood on your suit? I can cover the expenses.”

“I… uh,” Vox was speechless. He’d just frozen up in front of a lowlife sinner demon and had been saved by another, who was now apologizing to him. What the fuck. Something had to be wrong with him, especially with these weird feelings he had in his chest. Felt all fluttery and stupid like butterflies. “My suit is fine. I narrowly avoided the splash zone, I think. Thank you for your offer.”

“Of course! Not a problem,” you said with a smile. Vox noticed you hadn’t stepped any closer to him, you’d kept your distance. But you’d put your axe away. You knew who he was and how dangerous he was, how defenseless you were in comparison, but you were still talking to him. Did you feel superior to him just because you’d saved him? No, that couldn’t be it… you seemed so… genuine. “Seedy part of town for a business man like yourself to be in. I’m guessing the paparazzi were a nightmare today?”

“Oh absolutely,” Vox said with a grin. He was quickly regaining his confident demeanor. “It was absolute torture at that interview! Ah, but don’t tell anyone I said that. It wouldn’t be good for my image. I’m sure you can keep a secret,” he said, linking his arm in yours and walking with you. This was a test.

“Definitely,” you said, with a small laugh. “It’d be far more embarrassing for me, anyway. I mean, the fact I interrupted your walk through town? With murder, no less! That was quite rude of me.” You smiled, carefree and lighthearted as he walked you away. You didn’t even know where he was taking you, but you were still so upbeat. “No worries. If you don’t tell anyone about that little incident back there, I won’t say a word about your occasional distaste for public attention.”

“Wonderful! Sounds like a deal, then,” Vox said, looking down at you. He was pleased with how this whole thing had gone. You hadn’t even seen him as weak for freezing up in front of that other sinner demon! You probably thought he was annoyed or planning to kill the demon himself. His image was safe, you didn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how vulnerable he’d been in the moment back there. “Say, how about we make another, more official deal? Something with some actual benefits.”

“Really?” You asked, looking surprised. “I mean, I don’t have much to offer. We only just met and-”

“And you’ve piqued my interest, dear,” he said with a smile. He held your arm tighter, more protectively. Whether you agreed to anything or not, he’d be keeping you around. “I have a feeling we’ll get to know each other very well.”

[bless-my-demons]

I just wanted to let you know that I am WAY too hooked on Redamancy that I keep just being like I wanna read angst? Oh, it's time to read Chapters 14 and 15! Like, come on, how can you take these okay characters from a weird ass series and turn it into something like this? I honestly think you are doing better than smeyer did! I also hope that soon things get to chill out, and we can see some half fun times with Jas and Emmet! Stay hydrated and well fed!!!

Omg when I tell you this ask made my heart SOAR😭 I’ve loved this series since I first saw the movies in high school (I just aged myself, RIP), but I always imagined them… different than SMeyer did; I’m re-watching the movies this week and I keep noticing what I would’ve done differently. Also, sparkles? You’ll never catch me mentioning that lmao honestly I just take her baseline for the characters/story and make it make sense in my eyes. And honestly I think it’s just the difference in vibes from 10 years ago to now - what we want in romance, perception of paranormal (not that anything about this is realistic, but making it more believable), and having time to criticize the saga.

Jasper is my Roman Empire, he is such a complex character - they all are! They deserve better storylines and just more overall, I just love writing my thoughts with him. But it’s like a coin, the other side is the wolves - more specifically Paul👀 oh my god I don’t even know where to start with the wolves, there’s so much. And I do have a doc started for Paul for after Jasper (there might not be a true and final ‘after’, but like once I crank out BD part 2) for when I can focus my energy on that instead of trying to split it with Redamancy, it’s full of ideas, things I wished we had gotten - especially with imprint relationships. Ugh and then I have that pre-vampire Jasper WIP that’s unrelated to Redamancy🙈 how the fuck do people organize their thoughts to do multiple series at the same time lol

The last part of your ask I’ve been thinking about since I posted Ch29, do you guys like the in-between? Like, the stuff between the timeline events that’s not in the books/movies? I’m always so worried about those parts, because if improperly done, I’m worried you guys are waiting for me to get to the point-to the shit you know is going to happen. Like the grad party, the newborn army fight, big plot points like that; versus the little injects like spending time with Quil, or Emmett, or reader’s mom, those things? I promise those little things have meaning down the road (some for the plot, some to just add angst/fluff/or to just fix SM’s holes) but I’m curious about your guys’ opinions! I’ve definitely read some fics that have had plot fluff that I’ve skipped because I just wanted the meat and I don’t want to bore you guys with that shit if I’m not writing it correctly enough😅

I also just love asks like this that make me think deeper about the story, because it definitely influences and inspires my writing lol thanks love🫶

[nohoperadio]

Here's a little breakdown of my personal relationship/non-relationship with various types of aesthetic self-modification (?, I feel like there might be a word or at least a more elegant phrase to denote this category). The point is not to offer my "take" on each thing but to express the different feelings/desires/inhibitions my psyche manifests around them. Some of these will approach awkwardly personal territory, fair warning! You may notice that basically none of them are especially positive; I'm going to leave off from analyzing that pattern for this post.

Tattoos -- I think tattoos as a concept are extremely cool, frequently they're cool in practice also and I like seeing other people's, but I don't think I've ever had even the smallest urge to get one for myself. I'm not totally sure why. The lack of an obvious thing to get is one factor, I feel like "band tattoo" would be the most likely thing for me to have but I don't like the idea of directly lifting a band logo or album art and I really don't like the idea of a lyric tattoo (I offer no justification for these prejudices), so I'd have to get clever with it if I'm doing that and I'm not very clever. More broadly, I predict that my enthusiasm for any artwork I put on my body would fade through overexposure in a matter of weeks if not days--other people describe "barely knowing it's there" after a short time--which on top of making the value of the project seem dubious, I feel like having a permanent image on my skin that I don't actively love would be something I'd feel bad about rather than neutral. Like "man, that thing's on my arm and I don't care about it at all, that sucks" rather than just not noticing it. Maybe I'm wrong about that.

(Tattoos are the one that got me thinking about this whole subject I think, it feels like they're reaching a ubiquity in the culture where it's almost like you're expected to have a reason not to have one rather than a reason to? Maybe that's just a people-I-know thing, anyway it got me thinking about why I don't want one.)

Piercings -- An interesting thing about me and piercings is that it's virtually impossible for me to notice when somebody has them unless I'm like, actively consciously scrutinizing their face (or whatever it is). When I was about ten months into my current job I asked my co-worker who I worked closely with almost every day "hey when did you get that septum ring" and she was like "well way before I met you". That is simply how it is with me and piercings and I make no apology.

If my inability to perceive piercings (perceirvings...) makes me indifferent to the idea of getting one, what makes me actively hostile is the total certainty that I would fiddle with it constantly if I did. I know these hands and their ways and there would simply be no dissuading them, it would be so bad you guys, oh my god. This is probably the hardest no on the list I think, although I haven't finished the post yet so idk maybe I'll think of a worse one.

Makeup -- There's undeniably a lot that's very beautiful in the universe of makeup and there's also the weird dark side, I have dabbled a little in this area and in my heart I feel more positively than not about it, but it's just never going to be a sustainable part of my life because (not unrelated to previous para) I am a perennial and unrepentant face-toucher. I will be itching and rubbing my face-skin and also inflicting other hard-to-characterize punishments upon it (is this "stimming"?) until the day I die and anything that wants to be on my face has just gotta deal. It would probably be better if this was not the case but I don't make the rules, sorry.

Haircuts -- When I was a child I haaaaaated getting my hair cut, like the physical sensation of it? Was so horrible and would usually make me cry and always ruin my day (is this "sensory overload"?), I didn't understand why I was being made to go through this ordeal and basically as soon as I reached an age when I realized my mom couldn't literally force me to do it if I just stubbornly refused hard enough--that age was 13 I think--I stopped. I haven't had a professional haircut since that time although I'm sure I could cope with the sensory aspect at this point, it's just not a habit I ever picked up again (I've had a couple of non-professional ones from my ex who just kind of wanted to try it, in a not particularly ambitious or dramatic fashion). Sometimes I feel like I should, but idk. My hair as it stands is not optimized for making me look hot but I don't think it looks especially horrible either, it's just kind of whatever I think.

Complicating factor here: I've had trichotillomania since I was 15/16, and it's hard to imagine it going away at this point but it's a lot more under control than it used to be, to the point where you can't really tell just from my appearance that something's up now. I say "under control", I have very little conscious control over it and usually no conscious awareness that I'm doing it, but over the years the compulsion seems to have unconsciously settled into a routine where it's just kind of... sculpting my hair into a more-or-less normal silhouette? Like I sort of have a fringe and stuff despite no haircuts. Oh I guess this doesn't make sense unless I clarify that I mostly break rather than pluck the hair nowadays, that's a big part of the gradual unconscious shift that's occurred.

A fun thing about trichotillomania is that it often makes people really uncomfortable when you talk about having it, which sucks for me because it makes me feel lonely, but I guess it sucks for the person feeling uncomfortable too in a smaller way. If you're one of the people who feel uncomfortable around this topic, sorry! Quite genuinely.

Gender transition in general -- I feel like I'm just, just on the boring side of cis-by-default. I think about transitioning shockingly often for someone who's never gonna do it, like it's not searing a hole in my heart or anything like it is for a lot of people but it occupies that "it would be cool to learn an instrument" kind of niche in my thoughts, if that makes sense? (Probably a bit stronger than that analogy makes it sound, it's on my mind frequently but not with a massive sense of urgency attached I guess is what I'm getting at.) I can see myself taking the plunge if the medical technology was like 10% better, or the social technology was like 20% better, or with some medium-sized changes in how my personality was configured, but this life being this life there's no way in heck the juice would be worth the squeeze. If I had one fifth of the executive function required to do all of that lying to doctors and learning how to clothes shop and having awkward conversations with people in my life and all the rest of it, well I can list like ten things I'd rather spend it on first. And I don't!

Glasses -- Love wearing glasses, 10/10 no notes. I knew since I was like 11 that my face should have a pair of glasses on it and I was very smug when the optician agreed (I did not cheat on the eye test in any way for what it's worth). The only times I'm not wearing glasses are sleeping and showering. I don't even carry a case because there's no point because I simply don't ever take them off. This is probably overkill, I think as a kid I was instructed to only put them on when I need to see something in the distance, ignoring that and just wearing them permanently has probably led to my vision weakening to the point where they're now pretty much mandatory in every situation, but I don't give a shit about that because just let me wear my goddamned glasses okay, fuck off. It's actually crazy how much I like wearing glasses, this is the only true thumbs up on the list.

I remembering trying to explain how I like my glasses to a then-close friend of mine many years ago when the subject of laser eye surgery came up in conversation, he said I should get the surgery and then just wear glasses with non-prescription lenses. When I tried to explain why that wouldn't be the same at all he was adamant that I was just being stubborn. That guy was a wonderful person in many ways and I loved him very deeply, but man what a dumbass thing to say.

Facial hair -- There are so many great beards and moustaches in this world, there are few more cheering sights than someone bearing some swish whiskers who's pleased about it, but personally I don't wish to be involved in that business at all.

I never learned how to ride a bike -- Obviously this one doesn't belong on the list, it doesn't fit with any of the other categories, and yet I feel compelled to include it here. And why should I resist that which compels me? This is my post. Yeah, I'm the oldest of four siblings, we were all given bikes at the appropriate kid-on-bike age, the others picked it up but not me. I liked it when I had stabilizers on my bike, then they took them off and I started falling off the bike, and after a very short amount of time I gave up. Like I didn't get mad injuries or anything, it just felt like I wasn't improving at it quickly enough and I didn't feel like keeping it up so I didn't. Early indication of my bad personality.

Fashion in general -- Clothes shopping has always been extremely aversive to me for whatever reason, it's gotten a little better in recent years, I have been able to exist inside clothes shops for long enough to purchase a small thing or two, but eh. Most of my tops are band t-shirts I bought at gigs, most of my bottoms are exactly identical pairs of jeans, there's just not much going on you know? But unlike with most of the items on this list I would really like to be doing this properly. I would like to wear cuter things with prettier colours and designs. This one's an actual goal. But so far I haven't really made progress. The aforementioned shopping sucks thing, plus a fear of being so aesthetically clueless that I just make myself look like a big idiot if I try anything risky, plus the fact that doing things that are not my established routine is tricky in general--these are barriers for me. I guess another barrier is that the things that would be most interesting to try out and therefore most potentially motivating fall into the wrong-gender-clothes category and therefore bring into play some of the barriers from that other category a few ones up. I did actually somehow get myself to dabble in that area some years ago to a modest but positive degree of satisfaction. It'll probably happen again. The patterns and causes that determine whether I can or cannot find motivation to engage in a thing--they are mysterious indeed.

Like horn implants or whatever other crazy miscellany -- I don't want anything in this category and don't have any non-trivial thoughts about it either. Including this section for completeness only.

---

Well, there you have it, that's the post. Now you know a bit more about some of my little weirdsies. If you actually made it through the whole thing, a) how interesting and b) why not tell me a little weirdsy of yours in return, whether it pertains to the above list or not? Why not get all antiphonal on my post, that way I'd get to know a thing about you as well, it might be a whole fun kind of deal. You don't have to though, I didn't make this post to try to snare people into letting themselves be known, I just kind of made it to be a post mostly. I make all sorts of kinds of posts you know? And so I thought I'd try one that's like this.

[girlbloggercrowley]

i am a believer in the s3 1941 kiss

[thedreadvampy]

I tried listening to Olivia Rodrigo and I'm sure this is really good for its target audience of Teen Girls Going Through A Breakup but has she actually ever put out a song that isn't about a guy cheating, breaking up with her and moving on to someone else?

like babe he's not coming back it's been 2 years you gotta find something else in your life

[ectonurites]

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR. KEVIN PHILLIPS

[running-in-the-dark]

sooooo

I'm 32 now

when can I expect to finally grow out of getting obsessed with men people stuff? I'm waiting....

[exopelagic]

honk shoo.

[unusualshrimp]

hmm gender thoughts

[transbee]

having did and being online in any capacity is so fucking exhausting because you literally can't go anywhere without seeing the most heinous takes about your existence or validity it's like. can we be normal. can we please be normal and Chill for like two seconds.

[goldicthehedgefox]

i like goku black a normal amount

[voidsaber]

even funnier to me is this person also made a comment about how Eli is voiced by a white man. IDK how to tell you this but Eli isn't in any of the animated shows or films and the audiobook trilogies are voiced by one guy. ALL the characters are voiced by a white man.